


Recreational Fighting

by neversaydie



Series: Steve and Bucky are Fucking Weird (aka Sam Needs Better Friends: A Series) [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Actually they just assault each other in Starbucks on a Tuesday afternoon but WHATEVER, Bad Dirty Talk, Bucky Barnes: memelord, Bucky and T'Challa have a fight club, Bucky's about to get REKT, Catholic Steve Rogers, Crack, Dick Pics, Guilt, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Moment of Seriousness, Protective Steve Rogers, Sassy, Snark, Steve and Bucky are fucking weird, T'Challa is Done With This Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 06:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6459493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversaydie/pseuds/neversaydie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So you just… meet up and fight?"</p><p>Sometimes Steve thinks Bucky is the weirdest person he's ever met. And he's got exactly zero room to talk, so he must be a pretty extreme case.</p><p>"We don't exactly meet up." Bucky shrugs, sipping his frappucino as delicately as it's possible to suck what's essentially ice cream through a straw. "I send him some shit to rile him up, then I turn my GPS on and he usually shows."</p><p>"To fight."</p><p>"Pretty much."</p><p>"Is that why you came back from Home Depot an hour late with your shirt missing last week?"</p><p>"Well, it got blood on it. No amount of club soda was getting that shit out."</p><p>[Bucky likes to fight HAM and T'Challa is here for that]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recreational Fighting

"So you just… meet up and fight?"

Sometimes Steve thinks Bucky is the weirdest person he's ever met. And he's got exactly zero room to talk, so he must be a pretty extreme case.

"We don't exactly meet up." Bucky shrugs, sipping his frappucino as delicately as it's possible to suck what's essentially ice cream through a straw. "I send him some shit to rile him up, then I turn my GPS on and he usually shows."

"To fight."

"Pretty much."

Starbucks might not have been the best choice for this conversation, because the ambient chit-chat and whiny music doesn't do much to drown out the _Bucky Barnes is Doing Something_ weirdness of this conversation.

"Is that why you came back from Home Depot an hour late with your shirt missing last week?"

"Well, it got blood on it. No amount of club soda was getting that shit out."

"And why you're banned from the movie theatre?"

"Batman vs Superman was just building up to a shitty fight scene anyway, they should've fuckin' thanked us for speeding things up."

"And Whole Foods?"

"Nah, that was all me." He doesn't have the decency to look anything but proud of himself at the admission, twizzling his straw with a smug expression. "I strongly objected to the price of nuts."

"That's the first time you've ever objected to nuts."

"Anyway." Bucky runs his tongue over his bottom lip and yeah, he's definitely getting some nuts in his mouth later. "That's it, really. We just fight."

"But we spar and stuff, and Sam and everyone." Steve is still confused by the whole thing. "Why do you need to get your ass handed to you at random intervals by a guy in a cat suit? Is it a sex thing?"

"I knew I should've never got you to google furries."

"Seriously, Buck." Steve rolls his eyes and actually pauses before shoving another cake pop into his mouth, which means he is really being serious. "I'm worried you're gonna get hurt, or you're _trying_ to get hurt or something."

"I'm not trying to get hurt." The cakeless solemnity of the concern has clearly registered, though, because Bucky starts to give an actual answer instead of telling Steve he can suck his dick and stop parenting him. "Look, I can take care of myself, and—"

"You would live on pop tarts and Dr Pepper if I wasn't around."

"I take vitamins!"

"I have to hide them in applesauce for you!"

" _Anyway_." Bucky lowers his voice slightly when he notices a few of the college students at the surrounding tables are trying very hard not to stare at the two bodybuilders fighting about applesauce. "This is something I need. I'm built for violence now – don't make that fuckin' puppy face, it's a fact – and sometimes I need to fight someone who won't hold back."

"You're kinda sitting with a guy who could fulfil that requirement." He's not put out by Bucky going to someone else to fulfil a need (as long as that need doesn't involve his dick), but this is one area where Steve could actually help. "I wouldn't hold back if you didn't want me to."

"No, but I would." His eyes lose a little of their mirth at that, and Steve's stomach clenches uncomfortably at the sight. "Last time we had an actual fight I almost killed you."

"That wasn't—"

"You were legitimately almost dead."

"I didn't—"

"Shot and drowned and _dead_." Definitely no mirth left now, and Steve hates the guilt in Bucky's eyes with a passion unbefitting of a Catholic who habitually revels in his own guilt. "I never want to hurt you again."

"Buck…"

"I'm not gonna fight you for the funsies, Rogers. End of story." He shakes his head, sucks up the last of his coffee/milkshake decisively, and rallies. He's got no time for wallowing, even when that works to his detriment. "I put a lot of effort into protecting that ass and I'm gonna enjoy it as unblemished as the good Lord allows. I wanna eat that thing, not kick it."

A girl sitting at the next table, wearing what Steve thinks is a truly excessive amount of hemp, blushes at that, and Steve doesn't even have the courtesy to do the same. Bucky eating his ass is nothing to be ashamed of, that's a fact.

Unfortunately, his witty comeback (that he totally had constructed and wasn't about to fall back on _yeah, well, c'mon then_ at all) is cut off before it can even leave his lips when the coffee shop door is slammed open so hard it comes off its hinges entirely. Black Panther storms in, fully suited and clawed up and, somehow, obviously glowering from behind his mask. Bucky looks _delighted_.

"You set up fight club today?" He shoots an exasperated look Bucky's way because of course he did. "You could've told me."

"First rule, Stevie. Not allowed." Bucky is extremely pleased that his nemesis-buddy has shown up, casually taking off his baseball cap and shoving it into Steve's messenger bag in case he loses it. It's a garish _Where's the Beef?_ number that he adores way more than such an ugly hat deserves.

"He looks pissed."

"Should be." Bucky smirks happily. "I gave up on memes for something more motivating."

"What did you send him this time?"

"Dick pic."

"Bucky!"

"Calm down, it wasn't erect."

"That's worse!"

"How is that worse?!"

"I was in a meeting!" T'Challa is just as intimidating out of his Black Panther suit, but Steve has to admit it adds a little gravitas to the situation as he storms over to their table. "The British ambassador saw your flaccid penis pop up on my phone!"

International incidents _have_ been something of Bucky's forte recently. At least he's consistent.

"Well, it didn't exactly pop up if it was—"

"That's beside the point!"

"Fuckin' fight me then!" 'Gleefuly' shouldn't really be the way any challenges to fight are issued, but then Bucky is the weirdest person Steve knows and he's certainly loving this.

"You're about to get rekt, boy!" T'Challa, apparently less so.

"Bring it on, daddy!"

"Guys." Steve cringes hard. "The trash talk's not good."

"The only trash I can see is the pile of shit sitting next to you." T'Challa jabs one long claw in Bucky's direction, where he's sitting back relaxing and smirking his face off. "And I'm about to take it out."

"Dinner and a movie?" Bucky cracks his knuckles and cocks his head, looking every inch the guy who used to be able to charm girls into dating _Steve_. "I could go dancing."

"Can you not do this while I'm right here?" Steve scowls, definitely not pouting although Bucky will probably try to claim later that he was. "I could do without you making moves on other guys right in front of me, jerk."

"Aw sweetheart, you jealous? You know you're my number one—" He's cut off by a MacBook to the head, the shriek of the art student it's been liberated from almost drowning out the loud thwack of overpriced metal and plastic meeting skull.

Steve was right, Starbucks was definitely a bad idea.

"I _do not_ have all day to put you in your place!"

"Booty call, huh? You're lucky I'm a cheap date."

"Buck." Steve tries to frown, but he just ends up sighing affectionately at his dumbass boyfriend when he gets puppy dog eyes in response. "Don't get killed."

"Wilco." Bucky winks, managing to make Steve blush even though he's seen that look a hundred times, and smacks a kiss to his cheek before he picks up the table and hurls it at T'Challa. "Later, babe."

Steve doesn't bother hanging around for the ensuing destruction, grabbing an abandoned to-go cup of coffee from the counter on his way out because they're probably banned from Starbucks now. He ducks a shard of splintered chair on his way outside, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure this really is just a 'fight club' fight and nobody's actually going to get killed. Bucky pauses his pummelling to blow him a kiss, getting a kick to the jaw for his trouble and not seeming to mind that much.

It's still early, so Steve makes a mental note to restock the first aid kit on his way home because T'Challa is in town for another two weeks and it doesn't look like his stupid boyfriend's recreational fighting is going to stop anytime soon. Someone goes through the window behind him and he hears Bucky's joyful, breathless laugh immediately afterwards and shakes his head to himself. Bucky Barnes scrapping with a Wakandan Prince in the middle of Starbucks on a Tuesday afternoon.

Fucking weirdo.


End file.
